


Nothing Sweeter

by Rainsong



Series: No Rest in This World [7]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle, Ficlet, Fluff, Grey Wardens, Nonbinary Character, Not Beta Read, Other, POV Third Person Limited, Present Tense, Warden Bethany Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 20:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainsong/pseuds/Rainsong
Summary: The bolt rebounds off of Rory’s shield and back towards Bethany’s head.“Sorry!” he shouts.“Would be an odd way to die!” she shouts back, catching a genlock square between the eyes with the end of her staff. “Behind you!” she adds.Prompt from Tumblr: “You smell nice” and Bethany/Marijke.See work notes for trigger warnings.
Relationships: Bethany Hawke/Original Character(s)
Series: No Rest in This World [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099796





	Nothing Sweeter

**Author's Note:**

> You can also read this fic on Tumblr [here](https://rainwolfheart.tumblr.com/post/645503234619949056/this-is-why-the-maker-left-sarcastically-for). Thanks to [floralprintshark](https://floralprintshark.tumblr.com/) for the prompt!  
> Trigger warnings: Canon-typical violence.

The bolt rebounds off of Rory’s shield and back towards Bethany’s head.

“Sorry!” he shouts.

“Would be an odd way to die!” she shouts back, catching a genlock square between the eyes with the end of her staff. “Behind you!” she adds.

Rory pivots and parries the point of a spear with his blade. Bethany, not within melee range of any darkspawn for a moment, sets the hurlock’s ragged clothing ablaze. It stumbles, providing a gap for Rory to slice into its chest.

“Good one!” he says.

“Not over yet!”

An arrow whizzes past Bethany’s head.

“Sorry!” says a voice.

Bethany turns. A second arrow strikes true into the eye of a genlock.

“On your right!”

A horse clatters by, and the rider’s blade slashes through the last hurlock. Rory drives his sword into its chest for good measure, panting.

Bethany catches her breath as the road falls silent. The horse snorts.

“Miss me?” says its rider.

“You have great timing,” says Bethany, breathless and grinning. Marijke dismounts and tosses aside their helmet.

“You could’ve handled it,” they say. Bethany shakes her head and meets them halfway. She leans down to kiss them.

“I always appreciate it,” she says.

Marijke smiles, and stands on their toes to kiss her again.

“You smell nice,” they say.

Bethany pulls back, her eyebrow raised.

“I smell like sweat and darkspawn blood,” she says.

“And like Bethany,” says Marijke. “I miss that.”

“Such a romantic.”

Rory coughs. “Would you two care for some privacy?” he asks.

Marijke shakes their head and laughs.

“I’ll wait until we get to Crestwood,” they say.

“How gracious of you,” teases Rory. He’s already gathered the reins of Marijke’s horse. “Ready to go?”

Bethany leans down for one more kiss, and takes Marijke’s hand.

“Ready.”


End file.
